


Stubborn

by stopmopingstarthoping



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: During Canon, Enemies to Lovers, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-29 02:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17799185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stopmopingstarthoping/pseuds/stopmopingstarthoping
Summary: Pretty was one thing - well, pretty didn’t really begin to cover the fierce glory of the Commodore in battle. She fit her name, sweeping in like a windstorm and swirling up and around enemies with a savage energy. But still, that was just looks and show. Gladio assured himself she was possibly earning his respect, but no more.





	Stubborn

Aranea Highwind descended on them in a bolt of lightning out of the dark. He’d heard about her assistance at Steyliff, but he’d also been there when she fought them all at Fort Vaullerey. Gladio didn’t trust her any more than any other Niff, but if she wanted to help them take down these night daemons, he wasn’t going to complain. He sure as hell was going to keep an eye on her, though.

That turned out to be more interesting than he’d expected.

Gladio was, by far, the slowest to warm up to her. She’d come to some kind of understanding with Noctis after their earlier battle, and Ignis just acknowledged her presence around the campfire with a nod. Prompto was a little jittery but friendly.

But Gladio continued to frown and side-eye her until one night, she plopped down next to his camping chair and met his gaze directly over a meat skewer.

“So. Seems like you’re not my biggest fan.” She gestured at him with the stick before taking a bite.

Gladio answered her with a grunt; then, “You blame me?”

“No.” Green eyes glowed with amusement.

Gladio looked down at her, curled up on the ground, seemingly indifferent to the cold, hard surface of the haven. She chewed a skewer noisily and sassed Prompto from across the campfire. He shook his head and took another peppery-juicy bite, the smallest grin pulling at his mouth despite his better judgment.

* * *

 

It took about four or five more late-night meetings. That hair caught the light, flying out of her spiky helmet as she flew through the air.

Those legs - didn’t matter if she was pushing off the ground to take off, catching herself in a ground-splitting attack, or twirling around her spear in an aerial maneuver. They flexed and strained under the tight leather leggings she wore, and it was impossible not to notice. He was only human.

Fine, yes, speaking of being human, and weak, he had also noticed her breasts. How could he not? The curved roundness at the neckline of her armor made him wonder about the full shapes underneath and how they might feel under his hands.

Still, these observations did no more than amuse him. Pretty was one thing - well, pretty didn’t really begin to cover the fierce glory of the Commodore in battle. She fit her name, sweeping in like a windstorm and swirling up and around enemies with a savage energy. But still, that was just looks and show. Gladio assured himself she was possibly earning his respect, but no more.

Given how surly he’d been, Aranea’s confidence startled him. Post-battle, sweaty, still breathing hard, she marched - swaggered - right up to him. She gave him a quick look up and down, gave a knowing laugh, and grabbed him by the shirt.

 _Holy shit_. Her mouth was soft but insistent, and against all of his better judgment, Gladio felt himself melting right into it. For someone a foot shorter than him, she definitely made him feel like he was the one being kissed rather than the one doing the kissing. She pushed up against his mouth, hard, like she was trying to prove something. He opened his eyes in surprise to find a defiant eyebrow cocked at him. He heard the helmet drop out of her hand next to them, and her eyes closed again.

Gladio felt his hand smooth over damp strands of hair and down Aranea’s back to pull her toward him. He did it without breaking their kiss, and felt her hands spread out over his chest.

They caught a breath, and shared an inadvertent smile. Aranea’s eyes sparked, and she glanced around at the other three picking up the kill, but didn’t look terribly concerned. She picked up her helmet and headed toward a rock outcropping several yards away.

Gladio stood and rubbed the still-fresh scar on his forehead gingerly. She stopped, and turned the point of her chin over one shoulder.

“You coming?”

Gladio cursed himself for how quick his steps were as he jogged after her. She waited for him, then turned her head back, and he watched her ponytail swing.

* * *

He told himself it was a one-time thing. She certainly seemed casual enough about it. Pants shoved down unceremoniously, the quick flick of a condom from somewhere between her fingers, and before he knew it those gorgeous legs were squeezing his waist and pulling him close. He drove into her at a pace that should have been too rough but wasn't, and she clawed at his back and hissed into his ear for more. He gave her a knowing look and made her come twice in rapid succession, finding that the soft weight of her breasts as she tensed under his hands was even better than he'd imagined. He listened to her praise his stamina as he finally let himself go, and pleasure flooded through his clenching muscles.

She immediately pulled her gear back on and flashed him a wink and a “Thanks” with another short, deep drink from his mouth before taking off toward her ship. Gladio was dazed, half-convinced he'd dreamed it, and fully convinced it was a one-night stand. Battle adrenaline and all.

He was wrong.

There was more, a lot more. Early mornings pressed up against the scratchy wood of the shed out behind the Crow’s Nest with the hot, wet slide of her tongue against his again.

More late nights in a darkened motel room, watching her gasp beneath him and feeling the sweet-sharp pull of her fist in his hair.

Stolen moments with his fingers shoved into her panties, the broken sound of her moans echoing as pleasure shot through him in answer.

One night, just the two of them, waking up in the open air to watch moonlight flow across the porcelain curves of Aranea’s skin, the taste of her lingering on his tongue.

A dusty afternoon with Aranea yanking at his belt only to end up with her lips wrapped around his cock and her knees in the dirt, one hand snaking over his skin, out in the middle of nowhere.

He started to see her in his dreams.

It was bad.

She told him, once, that he shouldn't count on her - on anything, really. That she didn't _do_ falling in love, that he shouldn't get attached. And then she rode him hard, blunted nails scratching at his chest, and he forgot everything and buried himself in her over and over again until she shouted and writhed and then collapsed on top of him in quiet, breathless laughter.

* * *

 

Noctis was horrified. He had never seen Gladio yell at anyone quite like that before. Sure, he’d gotten pissed off at all four of them before, and Ignis in particular he was a little freer with, but this was all-the-way-mad Gladio, and it was honestly kind of terrifying.

He was _loud_ , for one thing. His voice boomed out far beyond the haven as his face contorted in a shout. Noctis was relieved he wasn’t the target of Gladio’s wrath. Much as Noctis believed he could hold his own after all these years, he thought he probably would have shrunk from the sheer rage that seemed to burst out of Gladio in that moment.

Aranea didn’t. She stepped forward, and her hands shoved against his gigantic chest. He didn’t budge, but he did glare down at her. Both their fists clenched as she shouted back, a prominent vein standing out in her neck.

Noctis vaulted up over the side of the haven. “Hey guys, don’t you think -”

Two heads whipped around; two furious glances fixed on him, and Noctis held his hands up, backing up slowly. “Never mind. Maybe… maybe I’ll just let you two figure this out on your own.” He let out a nervous laugh and wandered over to fiddle with the fire deposit nearby. It was certainly better than stepping between those two. At least he’d know when they were done. All of Duscae would probably know. Noctis grinned ruefully and went to look for Leiden peppers for Iggy.

* * *

“I did tell you not to fall in love with me.”

She got up to leave, and the creak of her leather was like a rebuke. Gladio stared down at the red-and-black armored heels that crunched across the gravel. No haven, tonight; they were just by the side of the road. Gladio’d made a fire anyway. Yeah, it’d probably give away their location, but he was sick of bugs and more than ready to tear into any MTs that might spot them.

He tipped his head back up to say goodbye, and she faltered as she caught his gaze.  Those sure strides turned direction, right back at Gladio, and he found himself in the eye of the storm that was her kiss again. She kissed him fierce and angry, sliding her hand around his neck before backing up, a hair’s breadth from his face.

“It was those fucking eyes, you big asshole.” Her voice cracked on a laugh. “You shouldn’t be allowed to sit next to firelight, you know?” Her head tipped sideways.

Wordlessly, Gladio traced one finger down the side of her face, stroking hair back from her cheek. He admired the way the flickering light glanced off her strands and just smiled in response as her breath danced across his lips.

“Damn you. Where are you headed next?” she asked.

He found his voice somewhere, though it was low. “Falmouth.”

A wry smile, then, at the fact that he’d finally trust her with that. “Well, shit.” Her eyes rolled, and she kissed him again.

This time when he watched her hips sway away from him, Gladio knew he would see her there.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Gladio Rarepair Week, Day 5, prompt "I told you not to fall in love with me."


End file.
